A Lesson Burned
by AnnaAza
Summary: AU: Assimilation and Re-education. That's the new policy for the Fire Nation. Every child of the rebellious nations is rounded up to attend the Three Nations Academy of Good Fortune to become a good, hard-working Fire Nation citizen. Prince Zuko is brought in to deal with the inner Resistance once and for all, and to accomplish that, he needs a Waterbender as a pawn...
1. Chapter 1: Teaching Them a Lesson

**A Lesson Burned**

Katara is tagged with a blue sash around her otherwise identical uniform. As is her brother, Sokka; his girlriend, Yue; the ass, Hahn; and other Water Tribe members forced to attend this hell hole.

The Fire Nation said it's for "education and refinement for the other unprivileged nations," but Katara can translate the message just fine: _civilize the barbaric nations that aren't as "fortunate" to be the Fire Nation. _

Of course, in a show of goodwill, the Fire Nation sends their own children. It's obvious this is an ultimate humiliation for the kids—having to go to a reform school for the savages instead of the prestigious Fire Nation Academy for Boys or Girls. It's also obvious that the kids are the "rejects" of the family or otherwise too poor to send to prep school—but all are not eager to make friends with anyone. They scowl. They grumble constantly. They mutter how much they despise their family, but despise this aisine school more. But they do not drag their feet, purposely fail, or laze around. They are much too prideful for that. They excel in all of their classes, classes that are catered to them—bows and gestures, Firebending and basic self-defense/weapons, Fire Nation history, language, and a special class that Katara calls "brainwashing," where there's nothing but praising the spirits-damned Fire Nation. There is one "fun" class that they can take if they're behaved, like art or music or such, but Katara hasn't earned that privilege yet.

Predictably, the teachers are Fire Nation and take their job seriously, with expert Fire Nation displine. Katara and the other Waterbending healers gain a good reputation (but carefully guarded from the teachers and Fire Nation students) of healing. Every evening, during study sessions, they hold out their palms and wrists and backs for more soothing water that will soothe and mend their wounds. They wrap bandages around the afflicted area and rub scented lotion on them. They're smart enough not to proudly display the new skin.

The factions are not supposed to mingle. Fire Nation with Fire Nation. Earth Kingdom with Earth Kingdom. Water Tribe with Water Tribe. The Fire Nation decides to keep the two tribes apart, but builds their dorms close together anyway. There are no Air Nomad houses. The students have red or green or blue sashes around their waists. No one misses that the Fire Nation students are, typically, supplied with better food, housing, or clothing. Anyone who points this out gets a severe talking-to about how it's for _their own good._

Katara isn't allowed to wear her hair loops or whalebone heads or any semblance of fur or blue. She cannot speak a single word of her native tongue, lest she gets called up, her tongue yanked out by a grubby hand, and smacked with a leather whip. She knows why. Sokka has quietly joked that they would become "Fire Nation robots."

Everyone tries to maintain their heritage, but it's hard. They are being watched. They murmur their language when lights are out, talking about their day. They dress in their clothes that managed to escape the ovens and do their hair. They tell stories.

No one has gotten caught yet, because no one is foolish enough to say anything.

But the saddest part is when a voice is silent during the chorus of the time-honored legends or when hands shake when attempting to do a braid-bun. That means the Fire Nation is winning.

* * *

Katara is given a Fire Nation name, but she doesn't use it. She's called _Niu, _an insulting name which means "stubborn" and sounds very harsh to her ears. She refuses to hear anyone who uses it, and this is what gets her into trouble.

She's called in "cultural class" to recite the Fire Nation oath. She shakes her head defiantly, and the teacher/headmaster makes her hold out her palm for the small fire whip after a small struggle. The students must look at this example of a willful student, unable to obey a gracious authority figure. Anyone who doesn't watch shares the punishment.

Zhao is a sadist. He likes to hear people scream.

She refuses. Tears come to her eyes, but she refuses.

"I will call the Fire Lord!" he threatens.

She laughs. Why would the Fire Lord bother with a tiny Water peasant?

Furious, he strikes her face with the whip, and everyone shrieks. Katara raises her head and doesn't flinch, even though the tears are freely running down her cheeks.

She now has a scar running down the right side of her face.

* * *

Katara is also a member of the student resistance. Her brother is the actual leader, since he's quite good with speeches and getting everyone riled up. Their ultimate goal is escape, but they're still working on it. They're careful not to write anything down.

Tonight's task is to paint the Fire Nation barracks in blue and green and orange. They haven't forgotten the Air Nomads.

The Waterbenders use the water in the makeshift paint to expertly cover the house, and Earthbenders use the earth in the pigments to make it brighter and somehow harder for it to wash off. Granted, the two houses will be punished, likely by having to scrub it off by themselves, but it'll be fun to watch the fussy authorities try to clean it first themselves and bellow at the top of their lungs.

Sokka, in a disguised voice, calls for a retreat when the first candle lights in the window. Everyone flees.

Katara is a fast runner, but she stops to pick up a newer member, Meng, when she trips and spills her leftover paint on the ground. She manages to toss her over the fence before someone grabs her arm.

She has painted her face in an ironic mask: a Fire Nation Spirit, the Painted Lady.

The boy who grabbed her has a flame-shaped scar covering half of his face. He's unusually well-dressed, in silk pajamas instead of cotton ones, which is technically a violation of the school code, but she supposes his parents pulled a few strings. He has Firebender eyes, bright gold.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I am doing nothing my parents wouldn't have approved of." She answers defiantly.

"Like—" he gestures to the swirled walls behind him with a lit hand. "painting our house?"

"As I've said," Katara replies. "My father would have done the same."

The gold eyes narrow. "I ought to take you to security right now, Water Tribe."

Her heats stops. "How do you know?" she spits.

"You have unmistakably blue eyes." he appraises her, then nods as if confirming something.

"Who the hell are you?" she asks angrily, struggling anew. "I've never seen you before."

His eyebrow raises. One eyebrow. Peculiar.

"You honestly don't know?"

"Oooh, another snotty noblemen's son." she fires back. She notices a fresh paint drip rolls off into the grass by the fireball still lit in his hand, either lighting the night or preparing to burn her face. Katara slowly, behind her back, lifts her hand. It's a full moon.

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, you are _in _for it now." He opens his mouth to say his name, but Katara is faster.

The blue paint hits him right in the back of his head, and he startles, letting go of her immediately. She laughs and makes her escape.

Bending (except for Firebending) is illegal, so it's _very _lucky he doesn't know her.

* * *

_This title was brought to you by **Advocaat, **author of the hilarious, well-written, and properly angsty "The Confrontational Approach" and the unique and gut-busting collection of "And Other Stupid Fairy Tales." PM me to collect your oneshot! _

_Thanks to everyone who submitted their title ideas! I really went back and forth a lot; many of them were brilliant! I got a lot of creative ones, so I might use yours in a chapter name, so keep an eye out! _

_More thanks to everyone who took a look at this during the first Zutara Month, and I hope to see new reviewers, too, as this progresses! I'm going to be starting from the beginning and expanding, so people who've already read this before will see new chapters and new scene in addition to familiar ones. But don't worry, you'll find out what happened when (SPOILER CENSOR). _

_See you soon! _


	2. Chapter 2: Crime and Consequence

**A Lesson Burned**

"So, what do you think the special assembly is going to be about today?" Yue asked as she tied her hair back into a required Fire Nation hairstyle, struggling to hold the bun in place while she clipped the school's emblem in. She'd almost forgotten, but luckily, someone had reminded her. They were all standing very stiffly in the very large room with a platform for propaganda plays, speeches, or public punishments and trying very hard to keep the mood festive before the so-called "big announcement."

"Probably to congratulate us on our fine project last night," Hahn whispered, and everyone snickered. Katara didn't laugh as she pretended to straighten her sash.

"Psh, it's probably another _you're not trying hard enough for the honor and integrity of the Fire Nation_ speech." Sokka mimicked Lo's (or was it Li's?) gravelly, but stern voice.

"Who's mocking the noble purpose of this school?" one of the prefects came up right behind them in the large hall, and they all shrieked.

"No one," Tato quickly answered, fingers clenched to his sides.

"I see." The prefect, Hide, scanned them all. They had let their faces slip into impassivity, and he scowled at them as he rapped on his small notepad. "If I ever hear you disregard the motto of this fine establishment, I can give you all double chores for two months, you backwater savages."

"Savages!" Kita shouted angrily, lunging forward. Katara quickly pulled her in a close embrace and tried very hard not to glare at Hide, who was making a note and looking at little Kita's number boldly printed onto her sleeve.

"Perhaps this one should get triple...including volunteering herself for cleaning out the picken stalls. She'll fit right in the mud; it will blend perfectly with her skin." he laughed as if he'd made a good joke. Sokka clenched his fists. Kita was ready to tackle him again, and Katara had to use most of her strength to hold her back.

"She just got here; she doesn't know!" Yue protested, despite that her own face was redder than the boy's sash. "I'll talk to her."

He scanned her face, flipped through a little book. "Yes, Yue, _Princess _of the North. The North is a much...civilized society than the South. Your color is almost close to a true Fire Nation native."

Yue raised her chin, her eyes flashing, but her tone was cool and conciliatory. "Thank you, Prefect Hide."

"See? _Manners._ You've been taught well here." Hide leered at her, and Sokka was nearly stepped forward when Hide waved them away as if shooing away a troublesome spiderfly. "Very well. Keep an eye on Number 906...the little girl, and watch her well. If she gets into trouble, _it_'ll be your responsibility."

"Yes. Sir." Yue muttered, glancing briefly at Kita, now limp in Katara's arms. "Understood."

"Good. Dismissed." With that, he swaggered off to bully a new set of students.

Sokka scowled and drew an arm across Yue's shoulders quickly, temporarily breaking ranks. "That _ass."_

"Sokka, shhh!" Katara hissed and pushing Kita to her position with the other newcomers.

"How can they all believe in this junk?" Sokka grumbled and stepped away from Yue, who was patting his shoulder. "They actually believe it!"

"Sokka, get back." Someone shoved him to stand on his number just as one of the teachers walked by. The lights dimmed slightly as the principal took the stage. It was Zhao, who had wormed his way up the ranks to become this and doubled as one of their techers. Katara honestly didn't know why, because despite all the things he could get away with doing to the students, he still had to interact with "putrid ingrates."

"Children!" He smiled benovently at them, as fake as, well one of the posters on the wall: _Education, refinement, love of the Fire Nation. We welcome you! _"We have a special guest today to observe our proceedings at the Three Nations Academy of Good Fortune."

Sokka and Katara, on cue, preteneded to vomit at the name. Yue smirked at Sokka and quickly turned her look into complete attentiveness.

"Please welcome our esteemed," his face twisted as if he was having a contortion. "Prince Zuko, heir to the Fire Nation crown and son of the Fire Lord. Hail!"

"Hail!" the Fire Nation students called back and immediately kow-towed. Getting the cue, the other students (reluctantly) mimicked them.

Katara looked up and gulped. It was the boy from last night.

* * *

He still had the blue paint slightly stuck to his ears, hair, and neck. Katara managed a small smirk before she clamped down on it. What if he recognized her? Oh, he'd _definitely_ tell! Her family would be punished along with her!

He was making what sounded like a memorized speech, but Katara wasn't listening, even as they rose. Her thoughts were still kicking at her head. Finally, he finished, and they filed out. Katara quikcly bowed her head as they passed the stage. Even so, she could sense that he'd find her.

* * *

So far, her luck had held for almost a day. Students were required to bow deeply whenever the esteemed Prince passed them, and Katara took advantage of that to let her long hair hide her face as she did so, as the sides pulled back not allowing her to do so while standing or sitting. _He doesn't know me; I was wearing face paint._

Now she was taking notes for Ms. Kwan's history class. She was the picture of a hard teacher, with pursued lips, sharp eyes, and dark hair in a bun. Even though she was petite, she kept order with a sharp tongue and well-placed threats. She often boasted that she taught famous generals and inventors and even a well-known warrior, but _she, _out of the kindness of her heart, volunteered to educate them. Katara hated her.

"...Now, Fire Lord Azulon..."

Katara suppressed a sigh as her voice droned on and on, setting aside her fully-covered paper for a new piece. Her voice suddenly broke as the door creaked open.

"Prince Zuko!" Her tone turned delighted and worshipful. Katara would have gagged if she wasn't trying to be unnoticed. "Are you here to observe my class?"

"Yes, of course, I must stop by every one, and I've heard good reports of you. My cousin Prince Lu Ten was one of your students."

"Ah, yes, talented boy! You were intelligent, too! Of course, alas, you both had to go to the Fire Nation Academy for Boys when you came of age..."

Sokka was mouthing _alas? _as he was studiously copying down the last words of her lecture.

"Sit down, will you, please? Now, class, let's begin with one of Fire Lord Azulon's most famous campaign orders...the Southern Raiders!"

She held out a red flag with the emblem, and Katara couldn't help the gasp that escaped from her mouth.

"Miss Niu, what is your problem?"

_My problem? You're about to teach about the invaders who killed my mother! _"Nothing, ma'am."

"Good. Please pay attention, and do not dishonor us."

"Yes, ma'am." Katara closed her eyes.

"For starters, the Southern Raider frigates were raiding ships used by the Southern Raiders as a means of transportation to raid various sreas. Now, Fire Lord Azulon gave the order, Decree 316, to capture any remaining Waterbenders after the last raid covered in our last lesson."

_Oh spirits...it's true. I thought what the soldier said was because of panic. Oh spirits._

"Captain Yon Rha led the campaign..."

_Yon Rha...that's his name. _Her brush began to shake as she wrote down the characters and underlined them. _The monster. His eyes were like the ashes that covered the snow..._

"This was their final raid, as they discovered the last Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. An older woman, whose name is forgotten. The orders were to kill..."

_Mom! She was running to the tent as fast as her little legs could carry her, her dad racing far ahead of her, calling her mother's name. Sokka was nowhere to be found. The soldiers were running, but they didn't care..._

_Dad opened the flap, then covered my eyes, but I saw in that split second...the stench, too...I think I fainted._

_I couldn't wear her necklace for a long time without picturing it being peeled off her burned body._

"Niu! Uncivilized barbarian, can you not use the waste bin?"

Katara lifted her arms and realized she'd thrown up all over her desk and her...herself. The notes were ruined. Sokka was looking at her sympathetically, with all the other Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom students. The Fire Nation students were laughing.

"I..."

"I'll bet twenty gold pieces you did this on purpose! And in front of our prince too!"

"No, I swear..." _That might be how my mother pleaded._

"Come up here, this instant!"

Katara trudged forward, trying to wipe the sick off herself. She wished she could Waterbend, but she couldn't blow her cover..._My mother died for me as the snow fell..._

"Closer!"

Katara held up her hands and braced herself for the whip. _Burning pain..._

"No! I've had enough of your cheek!" Ms. Kwan opened a drawer and held up a pair of shiny, silver scissors. "Gather your hair into a ponytail, and let's get this over with!"

Katara stepped back. "No! You can't!"

"You have disgraced yourself. This is your punishment."

"No! Please, in my tribe, you can't cut..."

"I care not what your backwater tribe does for their outrageous superstitions! Closer, or I'll make you!"

"Please, you can't...it's forbidden unless you're mourning...it's bad luck...someone close to you may die..."

"We will take that chance." She yanked Katara close, despite the stench, and put a chunk of her brown locks into the opened blades.

"Enough." Everyone turned to the back. Prince Zuko was standing up and walking towards them. Katara used that moment to yank free of Ms. Kwan's grip. The teacher was just able to slap her, when he raised his hand. "I will deal with her myself."

* * *

After Katara cleaned herself in the cold showers, she was sat down to have "tea" with the prince. She stared. They were very elegant pastries, such as a fruit tart, and fragrant tea that smelled of jasmine.

"Eat."

She did gladly. They were very rich and flavorful. It beat gruel with meager vegetables with a cup of water. Warm water.

"Now, what's the fuss about your hair? It is not simply vanity?"

Katara shook her head. _"No. _Women cut their hair as a sign of grief in my tribe, if a family member or close friend dies. It's bad luck to cut it outside of that circumstance. Someone close to you can die."

"What if you get it tangled somewhere?"

Katara narrowed her eyes. "If I was allowed to wear my hair in my old style, I will show you."

He nodded and tapped his fingers on the table. "I presume the Southern Raiders history unsettled you?"

_Yes, you idiot. _"Yes, sir."

"Can you tell me why?"

"My mother was killed. A lot of my friends were." she quickly added, in case they put together that her mother was the one who died, the "Waterbender."

"I'm sorry." He tilted his head to look at her. "Tell you what. I'll forbid anyone from cutting your hair and revoke your punishment from Ms. Kwan if you do me a favor."

"What favor?" she asked suspiciously. Several popped into her mind, all unpleasant.

"Actually try at this school."

She frowned. "I don't want to become Fire Nation."

"Well. You will all have to. Either you learn our ways, or else. We can keep you in school, true, but we can get tired of you wasting resources for children who want to learn. We can simply..." he casually stabs a knife into a pastry and smirks. Katara jumps.

"I am not afraid to die."

"You are afraid of your family?" Katara scoots her chair back, sweat sticking to the skirt of her uniform. "You have a brother here, and a father at home. Both are being closely watched. And I happen to know a few of your secrets."

Katara takes a sip of her tea, trying not to let her emotions show. "What of them?"

"For starters, you're one of those student resistance members. Painted Lady." He reaches forward and grabs her chin. She wants to spit the tea into his face as his fingers clench around her jaw. "That leads to a web of secrets. One, you're a Waterbender. You're registered as a non-bender here. That will be penalty enough. Perhaps a new regiment of drugs, watching, more _encouragement _to become a valuable asset to our society.

"Two, you Waterbended at me. The Prince. That's pretty hefty. I could imprison a man for simply blocking the sun if I wanted to. But this could be rewritten as an...oh, malicious prank, or an assassination attempt.

"Three, don't forget your identity as a resistance member. That is punishable by...say, your family? And that could lead to other members of your petty little faction.

"I will be watching you everywhere. You don't adhere to my generous offer, something worse than mere hair-cutting will result."

Katara pushed him away, swallowing the cold tea with a big effort, and started to open the door. He let her, laughing.

"And, Katara? I am the Prince. I always win."

* * *

_Did you notice the number of the Decree for the raid? _


	3. Chapter 3: Troubles of Fire

**A Lesson Burned**

Katara knew fire well, even if she was a Waterbender.

When she was four, out of purely childish curiousity, she stuck her hand right into the heart of the cooking fire that was roasting their dinner of seal-otter meat. She screamed and screamed and screamed—so loudly that her mother and father heard her from ten tents down, called from their monthly meeting, and Sokka came from a game of penguin sledding on the next hill over (or so he said). As she sobbed, her mother rubbed an herbal poultice on her blistering, red flesh while her father and brother ran for bandages and more herbs. Kya had smoothed her hair back and gently chided, "Now, Katara, you do realize fire is very dangerous? Don't do that again. Don't go near it. Understand?" Katara cried, burying her face in her shoulder, and her mother had gently embraced her with care. Her wound was treated well, with kisses and more herbs and frequent cleanings. It was okay now—no permanent damage, save for a few tiny scars.

When she was eight, she saw her mother's body. Sokka didn't tell her it had broken apart, like burnt wood, when it was moved, and that her father had thrown up in the snow, but she knew anyway. The stench and the memories lingered far beyond the funeral. Her father had to dissemble the hut to move far away, next to Bato's. She still remembered the ashes in her hair from that day, and the horrid feeling when the tent flap was opened.

When she was ten, she and Sokka were forced along with the other village children to the school, while their parents were kept at bay at home, to be watched. She was just a tad too slow, still stunned at the thought of leaving the very day they came, that an impatient, nameless soldier hit her with a heated fist. This left no scar, but it burned.

When she was ten still, she answered back in her native tongue, the one she only knew, and her tongue couldn't taste much for days. She was silent for a long time.

When she was thirteen, Sokka let her join the rebellion. She was careful in all of her raids, and the only flame that touched her skin was a careless error of a lantern bumping against her when she fled.

When she was fourteen, Zhao had given her that lash across the face. It was still faintly there.

In between, she had been hit with fire so much, but it still stung.

* * *

Fire always hurt.

Kita had been paired with Qi, a skinny but powerful boy, as he was the son of an affluent nobleman who donated a lot to the school. They had been "sparring"—but as Kita was a nonbender at eight, and Qi was a Firebender at eleven, Katara knew the rules once they stepped into the ring. Nonbending. Just hands and feet. But Qi was a known aggressor and was taller than Kita. The fight wasn't fair. They never were. If she did manage to beat him, she'd be tripped or have her belongings stolen as her reward. Katara took a sip of her water bottle to calm herself down.

Kita circled the boy and lunged. Qi spun easily and kicked her in the shin, then threw her to the ground by the arm.

"Match, for Qi!"

The girl was crying and holding her arm. Katara rushed forward, as did Yue.

"It's a burn." Katara said angrily. She glanced up at the sparring teacher. "He can't—"

"Match, for Qi." the teacher repeated slowly.

Katara stood up. "I don't think you underst—" She happened to toss her head to emphasize her point, but she saw Prince Zuko casually sitting down in one of the chairs. This seemed to happen every time she was going to lose her temper. Did the teachers send him a messenger hawk or something? She bit her lip.

"I do understand. Sit down, _Niu."_

Katara did and drew Kita close to her briefly. "Kita, it's all right, I'll help you." She headed over to the lotions when Tato was called up to face Hide.

_"Bring it on, water scum."_

Grunts were heard. Hide was actually not a good hand-to-hand opponent, but he could fight dirty. But this time, he was losing to Tato, who'd been trained by his father all his life.

Fire flew right at Tato's face, scattering the front row. Everyone gasped.

They gasped louder when Katara's bottle exploded to have the contents cover Tato's face right before the flames hit him.

There was silence. Zuko was leaning forward.

Tato was backing away. "I...I didn't. I swear. I'm not a bender. I'm too old; I'm fifteen."

"Someone else must have done it..." the teacher's eyes roamed around the room. Katara bowed her head as she continued to fumble for the aloe lotion for Kita. He was right; Tato couldn't bend—he never did during the resistance or the secret training sessions. She knew for a fact _she_ didn't do it, even involuntary. She would have known.

_"You!"_ She jumped, as did the others. "You little liar!"

His hand was pointing to Kita, whose hands were wet with water, her wide, blue eyes still staring at the too-big droplets clinging to her fingers as if stuck.

She shook her head mutely. "I—I'm too old too. None of my family—"

"Lies. Into the heater!"

"She's too young! She's only eight!" Yue stood up. "I am responsible for her. Send _me_ to the heaters."

"Absolutely not. The girl must learn control."

"Let me help her," Katara begged, coming closer with the opened bottle. "Let me tend to her."

"She'll endure. Guards!"

As soon as he turned his back, Katara swiped as much as she could onto Kita's arm. "Kita, when you come out, try to stay cool. Don't do anything drastic, like a cool shower. If you can, come to me, and—"

She was snatched away from Katara, hands still wet. Zuko's look had tranferred on to the next sparring match.

* * *

She painted her face, blue with white swirls resembling the ocean. Now, she hoped, she looked different from the Painted Lady mask.

Sokka was addressing the assembled group, face resembling the artic wolf. "We just need to be more careful. The Prince knows who Katara is now—but he doesn't know the rest. So far. We can't—what was that?"

They looked fearfully towards the night sky, where a blue and white demonic face, unlike Katara's mask, suddenly appeared.


	4. Chapter 4: An Observer

**A Lesson Burned**

Jee, in less than five minutes, decided that his new leader was brash, irrational, and bull-headed.

He'd been kicked off of Admiral Zhao's crew for saying similar things (with a dig at the admiral's _distinctive_ sideburns) before the pig-cow went to the Three Nations Academy of Good Fortune, and Jee himself had been downgraded to do odd jobs for the disgraced General Iroh. Truthfully, he liked this more. He lived closer to his wife and growing son, and Jee respected the older man, as he'd served under him during the infamous Siege of Ba Sing Se. He didn't see the retired general as weak; Jee privately often thought he would have reacted the same way and admired the man for sticking to his decision and not denouncing it in public (which would mean, in turn, lowering his son's death), as most of the noblemen would gladly do to get back into power.

Most of his errands were fetching tea supplies and letters and playing Pai Shao. It was actually quite cushy and comfortable, and General Iroh was funny and wise. It was when the Prince was sent to the school to survey the progress for a while that Jee began to question if Iroh liked him at all.

One, the Prince's errand was actually disguised as a punishment. Well, not a punishment exactly—it was more of a standard "get the unfavored out of the way." Prince Zuko, instead of being banished after the fateful Agni Kai, had been mercifully allowed to stay in the palace as prince and heir...with the mark of shame on his face. Jee knew what Fire Lord Ozai's plan was. Zuko would be sent away, and as Zuko was supposed to begin his grooming for the official title of heir to the throne, he'd be sent more and more assignments far away from home for the "good of the Fire Nation," while his sister—prodigy, master Firebender, favorite—would silently slip into the role of future ruler. (Jee hated the girl. He'd witnessed her set a servant's hair on fire, and that was enough for him)

Two, the Prince was known for his temper and complete pig-headedness. The peasant saying of "pull the bull-pig forward, and all he will want to do is go backwards." And backwards he did go, regardless of what anyone told him. Jee was not looking forward to guarding the Prince, that was for sure.

The first thing that hinted at a long journey was lunch. To put it simply, the Prince wanted roasted raven-duck, and there wasn't raven-duck.

"What should we do?"

"I could whip up a substitute."

"No! He'd know it wasn't raven-duck!"

"How do we tell him?"

"You go; it's my first day here!"

Jee stopped the kitchen staff before they started a riot. "Why don't I tell the Prince we don't have raven-duck? He'll understand."

They stared at him.

"Look, if my boy wanted sea slug, and there was no sea slug, he'd have to have cow-hippo instead." Jee answered firmly. "He got it, and so will Prince Zuko. Wait here."

Prince Zuko did not take this scenario very kindly, even when Jee laid out that there was no raven-duck, and if they stopped at a town for the such meat, they'd be late. And if they were late, it would make things inconvenient, and the big speech would have to be pushed to tomorrow.

Jee was sent back with orders to head to the nearest town. Zuko had stared him down with darkened eyes. "I am the Prince. I do not step off my Komodo Rhino to walk among the peasants. I ride through the crowd. They get out of the way, or not."

* * *

Jee hung around Prince Zuko, right at his heels, and stood outside the classroom doors. He preferred standing outside, because he could read the books Iroh sent him. He really didn't believe anyone would shove past him to assassinate the Prince, but he scanned the hallways every so often.

He didn't like standing inside or where anyone could see him. Since the students couldn't really glare at the Prince, they glared at him instead. He'd mostly been what his mother called a "shadowbender," always hidden and never tremendously active with the other nobles, but he'd never been the one always snubbed for Hide and Explode or had his ink bottle "accidently" smashed into his belongings. The glares were a bit startling.

_Of course they don't like you. We're too different. _

Jee ignored them. He wanted to speak up when a teacher struck them or belittled them, but he tried to shrug it off. His teachers did that. He turned out fine. They had to learn.

Or did they?

This thinking was dangerous. This made General Iroh fall, always out of sight and away from the public eye, forever disgraced.

His father told him to stand up for his beliefs. His mother told him to care for everyone.

He wouldn't get involved. This wasn't childhood. They needed to grow up.

It changed when Prince Zuko started to stalk the girl with blue eyes.

* * *

Jee turned the other way when the Prince asked the girl, Niu, for tea. It was a bit strange, since he'd never taken much interest in females, except necessary dates with noblewomen and a few little tours with Lady Mai around the garden, and the girl was a troublemaker to the boot. He only heard talking. Nothing was happening. He leaned against the door and began to open his book.

Suddenly the knob turned, and the door opened. He heard the Prince snarl with a strange sound that may have been laughter: "And, Katara? I am the Prince. I always win."

The girl didn't look back, but her hand trembled on the door as she swept out. She nearly bumped into him, and he saw unshed tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"Are you all right, miss?" He hadn't meant to ask, but he did.

She glared at him so fiercely that he wondered if the school that made a mistake, that they weren't harboring a Firebender disguised as a Water native.

"Leave me _alone."_

She stormed away. Jee closed his book and watched her go untl she disappeared around the corridor. His ears picked up the quickening of footsteps that heavily differed from her calm walk—running.

* * *

Jee spotted the Prince swinging out the window with a blue mask. He followed him while he observed her classes. The Prince was obsessed, and that worried him. It was not pure lechery. It meant something dangerous for the girl. She may have been the enemy, but she was only a girl. The same age as his son.

It was easy to keep an eye on the girl, since his commanding officer was always watching her. He volunteered now to stay inside the classroom, claiming the hallway was boring, and he had no more books. Sometimes when the Prince was away, he watched the girl warily step around the school, but always defiant in small ways, like putting extra food on someone's plate or roling her eyes at a teacher's particularly base remark about the other nations. The girl had inner strength; she was unmoveable in her beliefs, but easily flared in the face of injustice. Jee often feared the girl could be penalized for sure, but the girl could sidestep a truly dire punishment. She always looked as if she was thnking, planning, watching.

* * *

He cornered her in the empty hallway as she was making her way back to her house. "Girl, Niu—"

"That is _not _my name. Who are you, the prince's personal spy? You've been following me, and I don't like it."

Observant. "I am Lieutenant Jee, ordered to be the Prince's personal body guard by General Iroh."

She tossed her head. "Those titles mean nothing to mean. What do you want?" She hugged her books closer to her chest, but her eyes still glinted with anger.

"The Prince is keeping an eye on you, most of all. Be careful."

"Oh." She raised her eyebrows. "I know that."

Jee was surprised. "You do? Has he...hurt you?"

She stepped back. "Why do you care? You're Fire Nation, friends with people of power."

The lieutenant shook his head, something falling from his lips that he instantly wondered whether he could take back, or _should._ "I care because I am worried. I am your friend."

Her eyes regarded him, for something, for a hidden purpose he could not identify. She shook her head and looked around. "You shouldn't even be talking to me. Get back to your prince, and stay away!"

She didn't bother saving her dignity—the girl ran like a startled deer-gazelle, as far away as she could. Jee stared after her. For a moment, her eyes had had the same hard-pressed look the Prince often had.

* * *

_More on what Blue Spirit action next time! _

_No, I do not support Jee/Katara. Come on, the guy is old enough to be her dad. Get real. Of course, as Kimberly T. pointed out, this hasn't stopped the Jeeko fans, but to each their own ship!_


	5. Chapter 5: Initiate

**A Lesson Burned**

"Calm down!" Sokka exclaimed, then pointed his boomerang at the mask. He had managed to save it, somehow, by throwing it in one of the bushes outside their cabin as they were walking past it on their first day. Sokka counted himself extremely lucky on that point—he could have sworn one guard saw, then turned his head, but since the guard had a mask on, he never found out exactly who he was or what happened. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

The figure gracefully jumped down from the tree, landing on the balls of its feet. Katara couldn't help being slightly impressed. She didn't climb onto high places for the same reason—or rather, the opposite reason. If she did end up in a place that was taller than two Hakodas stacked on top of one another, she closed her eyes and prayed her ankle wouldn't crunch when she landed. She carefully put a hand to her hidden waterskin and noticed that much of the group was doing the same.

"How did you find us?" she asked, as he wasn't answering any of Sokka's questions.

The figure crouched down and took something out of its pocket. It was a dagger, a very fine one with a shiny black handle and carved words on the side she couldn't quite make out in the semi-darkness. Sokka moved forward as if he meant to take the dagger or thought the mysterious being with the mask would lunge at them and plunge the knife into her chests. She tapped him back carefully. It wasn't as if she had the sense that he wouldn't hurt them—but she saw that he was writing carefully in the soft earth in neat handwriting.

_My name is Lee. I am from the Earth House. I want to join you._

"Earth House?" Sokka frowned. "I don't think I remember you."

_There are a million Lees._

"Point," Yue nodded, white strands falling from her elaborate hairstyle and sticking to her painted mask. She looked around at the crowd, each in the eyes. "Who can vouch for the honesty of Lee? Someone from the Earth House?"

The Earth Kingdom kids shuffled their feet. Katara held her breath, uncapping the cork, waiting.

Finally, a girl about Yue's age stood up, her brown hair in two braids handing over her shoulders. Her face was painted simply in light green with a swirl of tiny flowers, anemones, that her mother used to grow for business while living in their small village before traveling to Ba Sing Se. Katara vaguely knew her—Jin, a cheerful but timid girl who hid herself from the soldiers and teachers, fearful and shivering. She never talked about what happened to her after she was snatched from her mother on the road, and Katara never asked. It was something she never wanted Jin to talk about if it meant bring up the darkness of her past back. She was a pretty girl with bright eyes and an easy laugh in the Earth House, as Haru once told her, but around one Fire Nation person, she would freeze and sink away.

"I...I know him, Yue. I can vouch." Her voice was timid, and her eyes darted to the ground as she spoke, her hands trembling.

"Thank you, Jin." Katara smiled warmly, but Jin continued to stare at the dirt beneath her shabby shoes, her braids hiding her cheeks.

Lee stood up, sheathed his knife, and confidently walked forward.

Sokka still regarded him suspiciously. "Very well. Join us."

* * *

Lee seemed to blend right into their group as if he'd joined years ago and not just two nghts ago. He was silent and elusive, only answering simple questions. Katara watched him practice his broadswords, swinging with smooth elegance that made her wonder a lot of things. _What did his family do? Were they swordsmiths? Did his father or brother teach him? How did he get captured? Where did he get those?_

He scratched in lovely calligraphy, yet a hint of clumsiness to them, handling the writing implement—his dagger, a stick, or the end of a stone—with an easy air. Katara stared at him enviously. She barely knew how to write her own language, and the Fire Nation language was needlessly complicated and took yers to learn, but still not much progress for her. _He must be from a good family, _she decided. No peasant could learn how to write like _that _without proper schooling; they had to focus on hunting and cooking and cleaning and farming and survivial to even think about adding lovely flourishes as he did to their words. Katara's writing looked like picken scratch.

Not to mention the mask. It was a _real_mask, not a painted-on one like everyone's. Teo had told her it was an opera mask, and it was magnificent craftsmenship—no grain of wood was seen through the thick paint, the lines were perfectly clean, the wood seemed smooth and even _shining_ in the moonlight, the shadows of the eyeholes expertly hid his eyes (but added no hinderance to his sight), and it simply looked real, as if a real monster had possessed the mask and was ready to snatch someone up on its fangs and carry them off.

His stealth was excellent, as sient as a pygmy puma, even with boots. Katara was dead sure that the clunky things would echo on wood for sure, but when they did their first raid together—he ran along the roof in soft, padding motions. It was amazing.

Everyone treated him with respect and awe, naturally. No one seemed to know who he was, despite that they pressed Jin for details, and those were small. They all looked up at him, peering up at him with round eyes, asking him to show them something. He even developed a nickname—_the Blue Spirit, _because a simple name like "Lee" didn't seem to fit with his appearance or...allure.

Sokka distrusted him, something he couldn't quite fit his finger on, though he allowed him to come along on raids. But he never let him sit on their meetings of planning an escape or such topics.

"Look, I don't know if it's the mask or the silence or the creepy silent-warrior thing he has going on," Sokka confided to Katara in the house when everyone had gone to sleep. "But something...I can't really _pinpoint _it, but I don't think we should fully let..._Lee _in."

"Maybe you're jealous?" Katara whispered back. "He is sort of a second leader. They come to him for advice."

Sokka shook his head. The covers rustled. "I'm not jealous."

Katara turned and pulled her blankets over her head. "Just sleep on it, Sokka. I think he's all right."

"You think just like them."

"Don't think about that, in terms of _us and them. _We can't be divided within our common goal." Katara sighed and rolled over again. "Sokka, just give him a chance. Let him into a few meetings. See how it goes. He doesn't ruin the raids or anything."

"Hm." Sokka groaned. "Maybe."

* * *

The Blue Spirit's mouth cannot be seen, but it twitches upward in a confident smirk.

He then turns away from the dark window and returns to his own room with silk sheets and gold embroidery.

* * *

_A quick note: Haru doesn't try to escape just yet and isn't "disappeared," as in the original. Chit Sang will also make an appearance later!_


	6. Chapter 6: Feverish Heat

**A Lesson Burned**

Katara considered the Fire Nation Summer Solstice week-long festival both a blessing and a curse.

The good part was no classes for a week, and a lot of time spent in their cabins to paint banners and sew costumes and such, usually not being supervised because the others were scrambling to prepare for the holiday. Everyone could partake in the delicious food, a nice change from the gruel, warm water, mushy vegetables, and a cup of rice.

Which led to the negative side: celebrating their most important festival with as much zeal as the Fire Nation citizens and most of the grunt work and clean-up. Katara hated not being able to celebrate the Winter Solstice, the end of the Days of Darkness (she didn't even know when that was anymore), and a lot of other small festivals that she can only faintly remember. They'd tried to celebrate it, but this always involved the prefects or teachers burning their carefully-made decorations and sentencing them to six months of cleaning classrooms and the lunchroom or whipping them with fire. She hated singing patriotic Fire Nation songs, painting hundreds of cheerful pictures of suns, writing thousands of greetings and wishes on banners, looking reverently at a firestone shaped like Agni, memorizing stiff dance movements and bows, and cooking with mounds of red pepper flakes and fire flakes.

Now that the Prince was residing at the school, the students and teachers alike worked overtime to make it the best Summer Solstice Festival he'd ever seen outside the palace. Katara sewed her own ceremonial clothes until her eyes ached and her hands bled from the constant pokes of the embroidery needle; Yue sang over twenty tunes until her voice began to get scratchy; Sokka hung banners so much that he swore his arms were stuck in upright position forever; Hahn swore over the multiple frivolities of the ball while carrying stacks of the finest dishes the school had; Jin sighed over the red ink staining her fingertips with a mournful look; and countless others, even the Fire Nation kids, began to grumble.

The Prince, of course, did nothing at all to help, but his lieutenant, if passing by, helped straighten a poster or lift something for a student until he was called away, which Katara found surprising and helpful. He was even seen once helping to paint a lantern, in a design of colorful dragons and firecrackers. Odd!

This little story helped cheer little Kita up, who was feverish in bed, eyes dull and skin always sweating. Every chance one got, Waterbending healers tried to place cool hands on her forehead and nonbenders placed cold cloths after the healing, but none seemed to help her every much. The hot weather did not cooperate—they tried opening the windows, dressing her in very light clothing, fanning her, giving her cool baths, and always slipped water down her throat, but only hot air blew through the room, and Kita shivered as if it was coldest blizzard wind. She stopped drinking her water unless prompted, and Katara began to worry when she began to pat her bed and think it was a giant slab of ice.

Some Earth Kingdom members of the rebellion managed to find some healing plants around the school and crush them into a poultice or make a watery elixir, but it did no good. The healer at the school gave them ice packs and turned them away soon after. He was of no help.

Katara cried, even though she tried her best not to around patients. It wasn't the first time she'd seen someone die due to neglect, but it seemed especially unfair—she was so small, so young, so fragile against the heater. She knew the school would just ship her in a plain wooden coffin and toss her back to her family with no apologies, or worse, a frail excuse like "she got sick, and we couldn't cure her." Katara bit her lip. Nothing was working, nothing...

The Waterbending healing, so treasured and prized by her people was failing. The familiar, light blue glow now refused to shine, and all Katara could do it cool the wet rags on Kita's burning forehead. The faithful roots and herbs from the Earth Kingdom were useless as plain water. She might as well sit back and do nothing. Katara buried her face in her hands, letting the water that coated her hands like gloves splash onto the floor.

The Fire Nation, she hated to admit, was technologically advanced. She (forcibly) learned in her lessons about the many machines and med—

Medicine! Special kinds, the ones they once gave to the little boy, The Duke, when his leg was infected when they brought him here. He was fine now! She'd seen him in sparring...

Her mind began to work. Surely, there was a cure for Kita in the hospital wing? They'd have to plan an emergency raid, but they'd never raided such a highly-secured place before...

_No one could help,_ she reasoned, smoothing back Kita's hair. She cried out in her delirium. _No one will._

_"I am a friend."_

She startled, then remembered who said that to her. Jee. The prince's...personal guard, or something.

_Did he really mean that?_

Katara bit her lip. She had to gamble. If she were caught stealing from the hospital wing, or anyone for that matter, their families would pay. Prince Zuko would certainly have something in store for her...

Jee seemed less...mean than the other Fire Nation adults. It wasn't much to go on—painting lanterns, helping with decorations, a whisper in a hallway, but it was better than nothing. She had to try. If not, she would raid tonight and pray to the Moon and Ocean Spirits for her success.

* * *

Katara wondered, as she walked down the hall, how she could seek an audience with Jee. Did he have an office? What if the Prince was nearby? What could be her excuse of seeing him alone?

She grabbed a nearby poster off the wall. She could pretend she needed him to...do something with it. Hang it in a taller spot? Ask his approval?

The girl approached the Prince's office, which was helpfully labeled. She looked next to it, an unmarked door. Was it storage?

No, someone was moving in there. She could see footsteps within the shadows of the lantern inside. It wasn't the Prince. The Prince didn't wear those boots. Was it Jee?

She knocked. If it was a mistake, she could always pretend and go with her poster inquiry idea.

The door opened, and Jee stood before her with a rather startled glance.

"Ni—no, um..." He didn't seem to know what to call her.

"Look, Lietenant Jee, sir..." Katara bit her lip. "One of my cabinmates, Kita, has a fever. She's really sick; she might...die. She's only eight, please, sir—can you...can you get medicine from the hospital wing for me?"

"Why can't you get it yourself?" The question didn't seem patronizing; he looked genuinely confused.

"The doctor, he won't help. Sir."

Jee angrily shook his head. "That's not right; that's not honorable of that pric—man. Letting a little girl die? Disgraceful..."

Katara held her breath.

"I think I know what to get her. Stay in your cabin and tend to her. I'll make it so you don't have to help in the kitchen today."

"How did you know that?"

"The Prince."

Katara winced. _He hasn't forgotten me._"Thank you, sir. But how will you arrange—"

"I have access to the Prince's seal." The smirk he gave her made her wish he wasn't Fire Nation, that he wasn't the enemy. She almost smiled back at his outright attitude.

"Thank you. Thank you, Lieutenant."

* * *

The box had pills that were to be given to her every hour and were supposed to dissolve instantly on the tongue. Jee had even included a syringe filled with clear liquid, in case the fever got even worse. Katara hugged the package to her chest and closed her eyes.

Kita blinked at the small red container. "What's that?"

"It's medicine. It will help you, Kita, I promise. Can you swallow one for me?"

She nodded weakly. "Is it small?"

"Yes. Now, sit up, take some water."

* * *

Kita's fever broke two days later.

Katara brought her heaping platefuls of Fire Nation roast duck and bowls of steaming soup, which Kita devoured in an instant, rivaling Sokka's appetite.

Putting another forkful to Kita's gaping mouth, Katara wondered about Jee, her thoughts about the Fire Nation, and enemies. It was very complicated.

* * *

Prince Zuko watched her raise her arms and dance with true joy to the beat of the drums and the melody of the sungi horn. He grabbed her arm as she went over to sip on the punch.

"You are truly enjoying this festival, Katara?"

She beamed at him. "Yes, my lord."

Katara silently laughed at the befuddled look on his face as he released her, still staring at her as she went. Jee smirked at him from the corner.


	7. Chapter 7: Taste of Fear

**A Lesson Burned**

Katara is finishing taking down the last damned banner when a student comes running up to her with a scroll in her hand.

"Thank you...?" Katara pauses, not knowing this girl's name. She looks new—the uniform is neatly pressed and brightly colored (well, as brightly gray is dyed, anyway), her skin shows no signs of bruises or burns, and her eyes aren't as dull from labor or years of stretched hopelessness. Her brown hair is cut short, and her eyes are a pleasant gray.

"Suki." she replies with a slight smile, in the common tongue. "I just got here yesterday."

"Oh," Katara said. She must have missed the news while tending to Kita. "Are you from the Earth Kingdom?"

This question seems to prick her; the smile vanishes, and her eyes dart around the mostly empty hallway, then land on a Fire Nation student passing them with an armload of lanterns. She simply jerks her head, which could be taken as a _yes _or _no, _and scurries off, the thin slippers slapping against the floor.

Katara frowns as she unravels the scroll. Was she like Jin, traveling to a new place until capture? Was she forbidden to speak of home? Did someone silence her?

Her eyes flicker down to absent-mindedly read the words, and she pales.

The Prince wants to see her _now._

* * *

The Prince is sitting behind a gorgeous mahogany desk, with carvings of dragons frolicking to a sun in the center. He is dressed in impossibly fine clothes—rich red silk robes and pants, gold embroidery weaving through the sides of the sides and the hem of said robes like fire spreading, sturdy black boots with a shock of gold and the toes turned up, and the gold flame crown in his hair. She stares at the finely woven threads, barely visible, and mentally calculates each value. Those boots could give her family a whole trader's boat. The robes could buy almost a year's supply of firewood, or perhaps, maybe only ten months worth. The pants could fetch a massive array of metal cooking pots, pans, and maybe even a large stew pot for the whole village. The crown...Tui and La! That crown can buy all of those things, and more! She's almost dizzy with the amount of wealth simply oozing from the Prince's wardrobe that she gladly sits down on the plush velvet and mahogany-backed chair, which would be able to purchase or trade for a nice fishing boat.

He tips his fingers into a steeple. She folds her hands delicately in her lap._The desk can be in exchange for...for, a lot of things. Clothes. Salted meat. Paper. Ink. Dishware..._

"I do not want you to see Lieutenant Jee anymore."

She startles. "What?"

"He should not hang around the likes of you. He is getting far too...soft with you and the peasants. It seems you've encouraged him to partake in light-fingered thievery."

Katara freezes. She's only shared this with the Resistance yesterday, in private. Who told? No, they wouldn't have. It must have slipped, in happiness, when someone was passing by and overheard. Or was Jee caught sneaking from the hospital wing and reported? Did Prince Zuko have more spies?

"I, no, he—"

"Silence, Katara." She hates the way her true name issues from his lips. It makes her feel violated, sick, degraded. It's _her _name, given to her by her parents, used lovingly in the Water Tribe community, only by her family and friends. She feels as if she's been robbed of her treasured possession and unable to get it back. He leans forward and looks at her with eyes she didn't like. She shrunk back. She swears that he has been staring at her more often, ever since the Solstice Dance, with her spinning in that light red and gold dress...

"How did you convince him, by the way? Tell me. Perhaps you can give me a_demonstration."_

A disgusted gasp tears from her throat, and she scoots the chair back as fast as could, the legs screeching under the polished wood floor. Her eyes blaze.

"I would_ never—how dare you—"_

Quicker than she thought possible, he vaults over the desk (even that's an odd thing to repeat back to herself) and grabs her arm. He's awfully fond of grabbing that part. She raises her fist and thinks, _No, he can kill my family, no..._, but begins to struggle anyway when he shoves her up against the chair. How foolish of her! She should have gotten up when she got the chance!

Zuko traces her face with one finger, but his bent thumb and middle finger graze her every so often, and she truly shudders. _He can do whatever he likes...no one will stop him. _This terrifies her, and she raises her leg to kick him, hard, just thinking about getting free and running out the door.

He blocks her with one hand and presses it tightly against one of the legs, starting to make an indent. Her finger rounds her eyes again, and she shivers, still trying to wiggle free.

He ignores her.

"Lovely blue eyes," he murmurs. "Unforgettable."

When his finger begins to stroke her lips, she opens her mouth and clamps her teeth right onto his skin so hard that he yelps like a surprised pup and wrenches it away.

He then hits her, hard, striking her jaw so she can hear a faint _crack _and a ringing in her ears.

Katara refuses to cry, so she opens her eyes as wide as she can and stares accusingly at him, strands of loose hair falling down her back. She tastes metal in her mouth.

Prince Zuko backs away, holding his hand away from his body as if it's now tainted with poison, and stares at her reddening cheek with a flash, as quick as lightning striking a dark sky with something she swore on her mother's memory was horror. He reaches out as if to touch her face, then stops himself and softly touches his chin with the outside of his fingers, gingerly, almost as if he's checking for something.

He speaks first, tentative and cautious and in a completely stiff tone to match his equally-so posture in the quiet room. "I..." Zuko jerks his head towards the door and turns away from her abruptly. He's leafing through his papers, not really reading them, just tossing them aside with too-loud flutters. "Get...get going. You have class in five minutes. History. Wouldn't want to be late. And...stay away from Jee."

She backs away, involuntarily cradling her cheek, wondering if she should arrange her hair so it covers it. He's now looking at her with strange, stupid, saddened eyes. _She _should look that way, not him, the...

Katara whirls around as fast as she can, almost hitting the chair on her way out, and slowly turns the knob.

He watches her go.


	8. Chapter 8: No Room for Innocence

**A Lesson Burned**

Zuko wasn't a fool—or, he didn't _think _he was, which wasn't exactly reassuring if he thought about it.

He knew that his father preferred his sister, but _everyone _knew that, so much that his father could brush him off in the meetings (if he was invited) or ignore him while he was talking to him in public. Zuko pretended not to. He carried himself in the proper, princely way and acted as if he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and crush it in a fist if he wanted to. It hurt less. He didn't know if this was making his situation more obvious, but he couldn't bear to disappear in the shadows forever like Uncle Iroh, to be forgotten and disgraced and never rise.

Ever since the Agni Kai, his father had made his disgust for his son known in subtle ways, even if he got to keep the crown. More tutors streamed into the palace, and Zuko, while listening carefully, learned that they were teaching the Princess more royal ettiquette, tea-hosting for important nobles, advanced budgeting, public speaking, and a host of other things that were not at all offered to him. Azula was in all of the meetings and delighted in witholding information and pretending to be surprised: _"Oh?_ You didn't know about the financial crisis in Fire Fountain City?" and other such questions like that to make him look stupid during the meager meetings he _was _allowed to attend. He was left, after his lessons and Firebending practice, to his own devices, the message clear: _We don't need you around._

Zuko hated feeling powerless, alone, lost, and half-baked. He missed his mother. There was Iroh, but he was giving Zuko _strange _little slip-ins while talking that involved "fate isn't set by man" or "your destiny is in your hands." Something felt wrong about these; they implied the same thing that got half of his face burned off.

During his free time, he would explore the Fire Nation. Just small things, like buying a meat dumpling or looking briefly at puppet shows. He had a hood over his face, so no one would see his scar, but he didn't have proper civilian clothes. Even covered up, he was stared at—he looked like a shady nobleman, and a rich one at that.

He was never truly free, until he found an old mask.

* * *

It was blue and white and dusty, and he wasn't sure from where it came from. A Fire Festival? A masquerade? Was it a present?

His mother's room was shut off and not cared for at all. The air was always musty (until Zuko opened the window as wide as he dared), every single thing was fine gray, and in general, it was dark as pitch. He wondered why his father didn't destroy all of her things altogether. He wasn't disillusioned—his parents did not have a happy marriage, and they had given up on the rule of "not arguing in front of the children" when Zuko was seven. His father never talked about his wife after that day, and the second time he asked, he was given such a _disgusted _look that he slunk off, making muttered apologies. Strangely, the palace was void of rumors, when you could sneeze one minute, and after ten minutes, someone would ask you if you had a chill from the dreadful outdoors or from the disgusting Admiral Guo, who had sneezed into Lady Dai's hair two weeks before. If people knew about his mother, they weren't saying a word, but once he heard someone (he had forgotten who) mutter it had to relate to Fire Lord Azulon's death.

It was buried in a drawer, along with other papers—certificates, princess paperwork, and paintings Zuko had made as a child. Nothing was written onto the back as a message or a token, and it appeared well-cared for (even though it was dusty). The paint wasn't chipped, the wood wasn't scratched, even the straps that tied the mask to one's face were strong.

Zuko had taken it from her room, carefully hiding it under his robe, and stole away.

* * *

He felt he was indeed free, leaping onto roofs and running through the night, the wind caressing his hair and the mask hiding his face.

It was something he was _good_ at. Lu Ten had given him a fun crash course before he'd left for Ba Sing Se, and he even said so. He could remember Lu Ten laughing as Zuko scaled a tree and hopped down as gracefully as a pygmy-puma. It didn't seem that Zuko had lost his talent, despite all of those years. No one glanced up or looked. There were no reports of a mysterious figure running around Caldera City and beyond (if he dared and retired early).

Even though he had to skirt the ready nightly patrol or occasionally check his mask's straps, he felt wonderful.

* * *

Then he was sent to this school, far away, almost clear to the Earth Kingdom. It was near the sea, which would have been pretty, except it rained too often for his taste and cold winds blew around with a freezing blast that chilled him to his bones. The sky was gray, the most of the clouds covered the sun, and he was always freezing.

Lieutenant Jee was under his command, and Zuko had checked: Fire Lord Ozai had not assigned him. In fact, the Fire Lord had only arranged for a royal escort to the school, then they would leave him, like a shiny trinket shoved into a dinky shop's back shelf—the beauty wearing off and becoming unused and unsought. He didn't know _why _the man volunteered. He had pursued his record: he was expelled from Admiral Zhao's control for "inappropriate conduct," a vague statement that could mean a lot of things. He didn't want any criminals watching him, and certainly none who were associated with that hog-monkey Zhao. He knew for a fact that Zhao constantly "talked" about him to the other nobles and was cocky enough to taunt him in public.

He knew this was a punishment, an excuse. The school wasn't having much of a success, and the Prince arriving to observe the problems and solve them made a nice story. There was a secret rebellion, childish things like graffiti and petty theft. None were caught, which was insulting and embarrassing to the authorities who ran it. All they could tell them was that the resistance had benders and dark clothing and masks.

But he thought about it. A resistance. He liked a challenge, something to keep his mind busy. Perhaps the Avatar himself was leading!

He laughed softly to himself as he rode on his Komodo Rhino for his grand entrance. From Sozin to his sister (briefly), no one could find him! He was probably dead, killed, gone. Perhaps he was a Waterbender or an Earthbender, now, reincarnated. That seemed plausible enough. How could the Air Nomads survive Sozin's great assault? The Air Nomad's army was pathetic; he'd read about them. No way could a single Airbender be alive.

* * *

_KATARA, SWT #451: New name is Niu. Registered Nonbender. Age: fourteen. Notes: extremely rebellious, brash, passionate. Cares a lot for her brother, SWT #452._

Zuko slammed the folder shut. It didn't much else, except for perhaps some paintings of her face and a few pieces of paperwork about her health, strength, intelligence, potential. The Prince put it back in the drawer and locked it with the set of keys Headmaster Zhao had (reluctantly) given him.

He knew quite about her already. The girl was in his grasp, running with a chain around her ankle, always aware of it yanking back towards him. She was the second-in-command of that resistance movement, the leader being her brother. She was a Waterbender, trained enough to create a large wave and freeze water, but her control was something to be desired. She was a lovely girl, bright-blue eyes and soft, caramel skin—her hair was always struggling to be free of her bands, and her eyes pierced him, cold and sharp as one of her ice daggers. She could look at him and make him feel small, but he _always _was in control. She was truly in his hands, her fate depended on pleasing him. The contradiction made him shudder with something he couldn't quite place.

Zuko truly felt powerful. She could always be summoned; his title was still honored here. She was always at his beck and call.

He had an excuse. He always did. He could toss in a few honeyed words about "education," and those teachers would be writhing with pure delight. They were already complimenting him on reducing her fiery attitude. Zuko wanted to laugh in their faces. Reduced? Perhaps, outwordly, but she would always burst out to save someone. The little peasant could get killed by doing that.

As he watched her slice open a metal-lock on a door during one of the raids, he thought for a split second. Absolute defiance against the Fire Nation? Unafraid and bold and in the name of justice? Powerful bender? Check, check, check.

_Could the girl be the Avatar?_

_She would be an old lady if she was the Avatar from the Water Tribe._

_Perhaps she's another bender, and water is her preferred choice. It's happened before._

_She's so talented; she must be a prodigy, perhaps an Avatar thing?_

_Such audacity..._

He smirked. He loves this fire, this dance, the challenge. He has infiltrated the secret Resistance; he has gained her trust; and he has her trembling in her boots.

* * *

She makes him angry. She's still unyielding. She is confident of her abilities to dodge the authorities. She taunts Prince Zuko during the resistance meetings and makes everyone roar and toast to her. She's turned Jee into a bumbling, soft fool who is willing to do anything for her.

He halts his thoughts. _What nonsense._The girl is uneducated and uncouth, but she won't go that far. And Jee, a Fire Nation-raised citizen, knows better. He is about ten years younger than Iroh. _Such nonsense. How stupid._

She's sitting in front of him, staring at him and all the items in his room. Zuko doubts she's seen such finery in her chilled wasteland. He lays down his new rule and sits back to watch her stew, taunting her all the while, feeling a hot pleasure washing over him, a cold shard in his heart telling him it's wrong...

Katara is a beautiful girl. He knows there's something wicked about it: he's sixteen and she's fourteen; he's a Fire Prince and she's a captive Waterbender; and he shouldn't hide behind excuses of following her.

Thoughts pop into his head. _She's caring, she's kind, she's brave, she's perfect for—_

The beast thunders over these and takes advantage. They're alone in his office, no one can disturb them, Jee is taking a walk, and he's the stalwart prince of this school.

Her skin is softer than silk, her hair is wild, her eyes are equal parts submissive and equal parts temerity. His hands freely trace her—she's exactly like the sea, calm on some days but thoroughly untamed. How delicious would it be, to have her, right now, to conquer the second eader of the resistance and Avatar.

She does not agree; there's a burst of pain on his finger, and it's bleeding.

Something rumbles, and a moment seems to skip to when his hand is stinging and her cheek is bright red. It's as if he has blacked out and has awoken, as if he was hijacked.

_Mom and Father were arguing. She was saying something, something he couldn't hear, but was steadily raising her voice and pushing him away with two arms. And he hit her, hard, across the face, and he hears something crack, even from around his hiding place around the dark corner. She doesn't beg, she doesn't cry, she doesn't whimper—she simply stares at him with something akin to recognition and reigned anger._

Katara mimics the scene perfectly, as if she could see inside his head. He reaches out, to comfort her—then pulls back at the ridiculous suggestion. He would hurt her, again, and she...he was...Zuko then strokes his chin carefully and pictures a portrait of his father, very bright and fierce and...monstrous. So tall, so god-like, in his portrait...as if he could do anything and get away with it...and he could...and Zuko was...

He lets her walk out with a shudder. Two weeks. Then he would be rid of her for good.

* * *

_I don't know how exactly Zuko becomes the Blue Spirit. In "Zuko's Story," a man named Hong Shen gives Zuko the mask and the broadswords after a bit of complicated story about robbery and in which Zuko becomes a bit disillusioned by the Fire Nation/Fire Lord. The said book was Movie!Canon, so...(shrugs) I'm not quite sure how much of Mike and Bryan's ideas they took for it._

_And no, Katara IS NOT the Avatar here. This is purely Zuko's speculation._

_Changed Katara and Sokka's issued numbers. Why don't we play a little game of Symbolic Allusions?_


	9. Chapter 9: Kyoshi Warrior Perspective

**A Lesson Burned**

Suki chooses the time well, thanks to Chit Sang's native knowledge of Fire Nation holidays. The festival—worshipping, of course, the glory of the sun, and by extension, the Fire Nation—is enthusiastically celebrated with much ado. She and her companion manage to sneak past all of the busily-preparing and then early feasting and dancing towns and even cities before they stumble near the Academy. Suki doesn't want him to go through the inspection—to strip naked in front of a staff member—but he pretends he's dreadfully ill with "pentapox," and the Kyoshi Islander makes sure to draw as much attention to herself as possible so that they forget about him.

Her new name is _Xie_—she learns that it means "mist" from one of her fellow cabin mates, possibly inspired by her eyes. She then proceeds to test her skills in deceit—she tells the officials as they jot down everything for their files that she was traveling and is originally from a small town as far away from her home as she can possibly name. Her partner is subjected to the same interrogation—luckily, he's based in the hospital wing with fake spots, so she can pretend to nurse him while comparing questions and answers. They both lie that, yes, they're siblings—their parents died by the hands of Fire Nation soldiers. The interrogator doesn't seem to want to press too much to check—they are preparing for the Solstice Festival for the Prince (the Prince? Of the Fire Nation?) and need extra hands and want the re-education and labor to be done as soon as possible.

After all, they did have similar gray eyes.

He and Suki try not to be spotted too much with each other, but she looks out for him anyway. She feels tense every single second, thinking of the gold fans carefully hidden in her thin mattress—the thin fabric stretched over scratchy husks and seeds—that she's managed to conceal by sewing a pouch that looked like part of the sheet. Her fans feel like the only link to her home, the one she cannot talk about. Kyoshi's managed to stay out of the war with its geography and neutrality, but she knows the anonymity is the key. Everyone knows about Avatar Kyoshi and, thus, the Kyoshi Warriors, but no one mentions them. That's fine with her.

If someone mentions Kuzon's home—only in lessons, but briefly, because it's gone—Suki wants to glance over at Kuzon and see if he's okay, but she doesn't. His face, however, is still innocent but hardened by his experiences—hearing the lies about his home and culture makes his eyes harden slightly, but no more. She's glad that the group made him go through resistance training.

She keeps herself busy. The festival is in full swing—the teachers have the students working day and night. Suki and Kuzon do things like make the foods, sweep the halls, put up banners and lanterns, and learn dances and songs. She's lately been in the section as Katara, who's as quiet as she is. The girl doesn't match the descriptions of the fiery, passionate rebel leader.

The only time she gets for break is ten minutes to eat, late evening for rest, and when Prince Zuko calls her to deliver a scroll to Katara. It's an odd request—what does he want with her?—but Suki does it. When she's out of his presence, she ducks into the washroom and unrolls it—it's a simple order to come to his office as soon as she got the message. It's not signed, it doesn't have any details, it's simple and plain without a seal to protect the content—though why should it? It's not exactly a suspicious message, but Suki wonders as she rolls it exactly how it was and steps out to deliver it.

So many questions are in her head. She knows about the Resistance, and she wants to join. She also knows Katara is in it from very careful eavesdropping. Does the Prince know?...or, is he an ally? The latter makes her stomach clench. The Prince had made no such sighs of being on their side at all, but his Lieutenant has. Was he using his man to test the waters? The possibilities of Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation helping them win the war make her hopes rise, even though she tells herself she has to get more information.

* * *

_A very brief chapter, and I'm sorry for this. Another one will be coming soon, but I have to update other works left abandoned!_


	10. Chapter 10: Tea Secrets

**A Lesson Burned**

With the Prince, there was a big assembly, a little parade to the school by Komodo Rhino, and worshipful bows and glances.

With General Iroh, there was a giant tea-hosting.

Katara could hear the teachers fluttering around, worrying about how to treat General Iroh, fallen from grace because of the unsuccessful 600-Day Siege of Ba Sing Se. He was still technically royalty, but the missives about him implied him dishonorable, failure, and even a traitor.

They finally decided to do a "tea party," of sorts—everyone knew of the general's love for that particular beverage. Everything was set up in the main hall, with a long table filled with appetizing treats and various teapots and cups. The tea, however, was not in the teapots—that was for the ceremony, and everyone had to practice making it. Katara began to hate the smell of tea, her hands partially stained by the leaves. Her partner, Suki, also muttered in disgruntlement. The students were all given a crash course on tea ceremonies in the Fire Nation, and all Katara could think of by the end of the day were rinsing, heating, and tapping.

General Iroh finally came without a moment to spare, delighted at the spread. The students all began to brew the tea, each one a different blend—jasmine, green, lychee, oolong, white, chrysanthemum, yellow, black—and more. Katara highly suspected that it was because they didn't know Iroh's prefered choice, so the decision fell to chance, by brewing every single kind of tea under the humid, unholy sun.

One new student, a slight twelve-year-old boy, exclaimed that there were more types of tea, like chai, and where he came from, tea ceremonies were less formal and more about eating pastries and drinking the tea. He was immediately scolded by Ms. Kwan and sent away to not fill up "the young students' empty heads with drivel." Suki had watched him go with slight anxiety in her gray eyes, and her hands kept flitting to her belt.

Katara and Suki were standing near the Prince, who was seated at his uncle's right side. Suki seemed a bit nervous as she told Katara that the tea was almost ready, and Katara was steadily forming beads of sweat by having to stand with her back to Zuko. They then threw out the first batch of their jasmine tea, which seemed wasteful to Katara, into a small silver tray and refilled the tea-pot with hot water.

While the tes was brewing (again), most of the students took the opportunity to chat, but Headmaster Zhao had warned anyone who was standing near the general was not allowed to "disgrace the school by chattering about trivial things." Katara wasn't even sure how she'd ended up by General Iroh, but she and Suki waited in silence and fidgeted their hands and skirts while the two chatted about the goings on in the capital, espeically of the Princess' present: a warship and a small army. They weren't too pleased about this gift (and neither was Katara), but they talked in hushed tones that Katara couldn't hear over the clattering of bowls, the hissing of the water, and the constant babble of the other students. Prince Zuko seemed agitated about something, as his uncle was continuing to try to explain something, and Katara only caught a few words like _letters, destiny, right, wrong, Fire Nation._

Suddenly, Zuko slammed his fist in into the table, and everyone nearby jumped. He hissed, quite loudy over the now-silent hall, "I have picked my path, Uncle. Do not sway me from it with your words!" The water in the teapots began to steam.

Katara backed away from him.

Prince Zuko noticed and a softer look traveled along his face. "Katara, you must sit for a while."

She shook her head mutely while Suki raised her eyebrows at her in astonishment. The general looked surprised, too.

The Prince pulled out an empty chair, where the students would sit after the tea ceremony. Katara stood, horrified, as Zuko forced her down, practically pushing her into the hard, wooden seat. His hand was firmly on her back until Katara subtly pushed it away.

Everyone was staring, and one teacher went over to ask the royals of this discrepancy, but Zuko waved him off.

Suki didn't lose her head; she was the first to successfully finish brewing and quickly pour it into the cups. Katara stupidly received it with both hands and numbly began to sip. Suki raised her eyebrows again, and Katara hurriedly tapped her first two fingers on the table, almost causing the tea to spill out in the process.

By then, the students could sit down and officially talk.

"So," Suki smiled nervously. "Uh, how was your journey, General Iroh?"

"Very uncomfortable," Iroh replied, but in a cheerful tone that did not suit the line. "It rained for days, and my carriage roof leaked, dripping water all over my head. But there was an amusing thing that happened during when the mud was especially slippery. One of the guards was carrying—"

Katara and Suki chuckled in spite of themselves at the funny anecdote, so the general took that opportunity to tell them more.

After a while, Katara realized that she hadn't poured his empty cup and quickly hastened to do so.

Unfortunately, Suki noticed too, and as they both quickly reached for the cup with blue etchings, it fell, shattering into pieces on the newly scrubbed, wooden floor.

Katara kneeled down to pick the shards up with her napkin while trying to ignore the stares and mutters of "clumsy barbarian," while Suki mopped up the tea. The porcelain shards cut her fingers, and she cursed, looking at to assess the damage.

"Here, let's get you to the infirmiry. You, entertain Uncle Iroh for us." Zuko commanded Suki, while gently picking up Katara by her forearm while gently wrapping a clean cloth napkin around her fingers.

As they walked out the door, Katara thought she heard him mutter, "I was wrong. She can't be hurt."


End file.
